Chapter Text
If they had actually been at work, or if they had all actually been busy, maybe Marty wouldn't have minded so much.
But they were all home.
Sadly that included Biff.
Because apparently it was more fun to be at Marty's house than at his own.
Marty suspects the guy is lonely, who would ever want to get close to Biff?
And ya know, usually this wasn't a bad thing.
When they all left him alone.
But Marty is sick and miserable and he wants a hug so badly he might just sell his arm for it.
He'd gotten home sick earlier that day, even Stricling agreed that he looked horrible and had for once not called him a slacker because of it.
Which was nice.
Only that was where Marty's luck had ended.
After Jennifer's dad had given him a ride home, which he had thanked the man for profusely, he opened his door to find his mom already drunk.
Which wasn't all too rare but still extremely disappointing .
His gut had sunk a bit.
Loraine had barely cared for why Marty was home, wouldn't even let him explain himself.
She had given him a disappointed look and told him to go to his room.
Which is where he has been, for the last eight hours.
It was now 10pm.
Marty wishes his parents would check on him, praying that they would see what is up when he didn't show for dinner.
He looks at his door with tears in his eyes.
Five more minutes.
He decides to give them five more minutes.
He watches his alarm clock anxiously, hoping, praying, almost begging that one of his family members would come into his room.
Listens intently for someone walking towards his door.
But all he hears is Biff making fun of Goerge, Loraine telling Biff to piss off with a slur in her voice, and his siblings doing whatever they did in their own rooms.
And then the five minutes are up.
He feels the tears trail down his cheeks slowly at first, like the first drops of rain.
And then the dam breaks and he can't hold back anymore and the storm rolls in.
Marty can barely see as he grasps for the phone he keeps by his bed just for Doc and Jen.
He holds back sobs as he dials the number he knows way too well.
It almost slips out when the phone gets answered "Marty?"
The sobs slip out.
Marty doesn't know how long he's been pathetically sobbing into the phone as softly as he can.
It seems like forever and it doesn't make him feel any better, in fact, it made him feel worse.
He now had a pounding headache as well.
Which was really not preferable seeing as he didn't have one before.
"Marty?" Doc's voice rings through the phone once more when his sobs calm down a little.
"Yeah.. hi Doc." He knows his voice is croaky and quivering and so obviously sick but he does not care.
"Hello my boy, are you alright?" Doc asks.
Marty wants to snort at the question, because obviously not.
He also wants to cry at being called Doc's boy.
Because it feels so good to be someone's kid, that someone cares about him and calls him dumb nicknames and their boy.
But also because it hurts and he wishes his dad would mean it when he says it, that his mom wouldn't look so disappointed in everyone and even herself when she says it.
"No I'm really not, could you come pick me up?" Marty asks quietly, coughing in between his words.
"I'll be right there!" Doc almost yells over the phone.
It makes Marty laugh softly as he wipes the tears from his eyes.
"Cya soon Doc."
"Cya soon Marty."
Marty puts the phone back and sniffs while wiping the tears from his face.
He takes a deep breath.
He then grabs his skateboard and walkman before slowly making his way out of his room, finding support on every which surface he can as his legs wobble.
"Oh the runt has come out!" Biff cheers as he shakes Marty.
Marty listens as Goerge laughs awkwardly with no real emotion.
"Haha real funny Biff." Marty says as he shakes Biff off of him, feeling dizzier than ever.
He makes his way to the front door past his mom in the living room.
"Where are you going?" Loraine asks.
Marty wishes he wouldn't feel such dread any time his mother's attention was on him.
"I'm going to skate around town for a few min, clear my head from the studying." He lies, covering up several coughs and croaks to almost no avail.
But it seems his mom is too drunk to notice, so she just waves him off and goes back to her show.
Marty looks at the back of her head.
He waits for her to turn around and notice how bad he looks, he waits until she gets up from the couch and gives him a hug.
He waits by the door for so long, yet her head never turns.
So he opens the door with a knot in his throat and closes it behind him with tears in his eyes.
Every step down the path towards the end of his driveway hurts his heart.
His legs wobble and his eyes droop.
He shivers in the wind even though it isn't supposed to be cold out tonight.
"Marty!"
A warm embrace greets him, smothers him.
It gets a little easier to breathe.
"Hey Doc… I don't mean to impose but uh, I think I'm sick." Marty mutters into Doc's shoulder where he's hiding his entire face.
Doc takes a step back much to Marty's dismay.
But the hand on his forehead makes up for it, the last time anyone checked for his temperature like that was in elementary school.
It had been his teacher to do it.
Marty didn't even like that teacher.
"You are indeed quite hot, yet still shivering." Doc states, looking at Marty for a few seconds.
Marty nods and quietly basks in the attention.
Then Doc turns away.
Just when Marty felt he was about to cry again, Doc returned.
A blanket covers Marty's shoulders and is tucked tightly around him.
Marty is too shocked to say anything as he watches Doc fret over him quietly.
His mouth is almost hanging open in shock.
He's being shown more care on his driveway by Doc than he was in his actual house by his parents.
"Come on, into the car, I've got some chicken soup on the stove and Einie is keeping your bed warm." Doc says, as he gently grabs Marty's arm to help the sick kid to the car.
Marty climbs into the passenger seat of the old car with help from Doc.
He tucks the blanket around himself a little more and sniffs while Doc gets into the driver's seat.
Doc starts the car without another word.
They drive in silence for a while, almost making it to the shed without a word.
Until Marty had finally gathered the courage to tell Doc what he wanted to say the moment the older man had given him a hug.
"Thanks, Doc."
"Of course Marty! It's a good blanket." Doc almost immediately answers.
"I meant for coming to take care of me." Marty says, his voice rough and he coughs immediately after but the message was heard.
"I assumed your parents had an emergency or something." Doc answers, parking the car and getting out quickly to reach Marty's side.
He opens the door to see Marty staring out of the front shield.
"Marty?" Doc asks concerned. Quickly looking Marty over for any injuries.
"There is no emergency Doc." Marty says, his voice cold while tears spill from his eyes and land on the blanket.
"They just didn't care." He mutters angrily.
He turns and faces Doc with a mixed expression that mainly consists of anger.
"I got home sick early this morning, not one person has come to help." Marty's face changes into one of hurt as the tears continue streaming down his cheeks and he feels like such an idiot.
But he's sick and he's tired and he just wants someone to hold him.
"No one, not until you." Marty whispers as he looks at his hands clenching the blanket.
He knows it's unfair to say that, seeing as Jennifer and her dad helped.
But that wasn't the point right now.
Because his family, his own flesh and blood, did nothing.
Hadn't even fucking asked.
Doc tucks him forward into an embrace and Marty just lets himself fall forward into it.
"Why don't they care.." Marty asks miserably.
It's once again, something unfair to say, or well ask.
Because obviously Doc has no way of knowing that.
But Marty was on a roll in saying unfair things so, might as well.
"I don't know.." Doc whispers.
The older man put his hand on the back of Marty's head.
Marty hides his face in Doc's shoulder.
"You're an amazing kid, Marty." Doc says, as he stands up while still hugging Marty tight.
They start walking towards the shed.
"You're very bright and very kind." The genius continues, helping Marty towards the door.
"You're very talented with that guitar of yours." Doc continues as he opens the door and helps Marty across the shed towards Marty's room.
He carefully lays Marty down next to Einie who immediately snuggles up to the silently crying teenager.
"My point is Marty, I don't know why they don't care." Doc explains.
Marty watches Doc sit down on the bed, facing Marty.
"They're idiots for not caring, because you're wonderful and I care about you." Doc finishes the speech Marty had only realised was there when it was almost finished.
Marty smiles at Doc, his head barely poking out from under the mount of blankets.
"Thanks Doc, I care about you too."
Doc ruffles Marty's hair and then stands up.
Only to be stopped by a hand firmly clutching the cuff of his jacket.
"Please don't leave." The sick teenager whispers, glancing all around the room and refusing to look Doc in the eyes.
"I'm not, I'm just getting you that soup." Doc promises, smiling down at Marty.
Marty nods and hesitantly lets go.
Soon Doc returns with some chicken soup.
He gets persuaded into being in the bed as well by two sets of puppy dog eyes.
Within minutes of finishing his soup Marty is asleep, snuggled up against Doc who's reading one of his Jules Verne books.
He might not get it at the place he should, but there's always a place that will give Marty the care he needs.
Doc's all too proud to be that place.